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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460138">Together, Apart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebozay/pseuds/Ebozay'>Ebozay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Lexa never takes the deal with the Mountain, Post-Mount Weather</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:00:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,494</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebozay/pseuds/Ebozay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Commander’s life had always been dictated by action and reaction, war and conflict, pain and suffering. When one enemy fell another would rise, and through it all there had always been one guiding principle that had kept minds clear and hearts tempered to the foils of the foolish. But when the last great enemy of the clans was felled by a stranger, a newcomer to the world, it fractured a heart once cold and hardened and threatened to bring it to its knees.</p><p>Lexa had never been allowed to feel remorse for her actions, she had been trained to ignore any and all ideas of uncertainty and indecision and yet, when she should feel only victory, she felt an emptiness that hollowed her heart. It was unfamiliar, something she hadn’t let herself feel for years. But after the Mountain’s fall she couldn’t hide from it, no matter how hard she tried. And so she turned to the only person in her life who might be able to help her understand a pain she had thought relic to her past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Together, Apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rhythmic drums and war cries, bellows of laughter, victorious and full of pain thundered into the dark of the night. Warriors could be heard cheering, sharing in exhilaration and the joys of life. Fire pits large and small, grand and far too tame for the night of festivities burned their light and cast their shadows as far and as wide as they dared.</p><p>It was a night of joy, of celebration, of remembrance and saddened loss. And yet Lexa felt nothing much more than a hollow emptiness that threatened to consume her without worry. Without care.</p><p>Lexa upended the bottle of heady drink, she let it burn against her lips and she let it sting against her nostrils. The drink tasted foul and bitter upon her tongue, it existed somewhere between the disgusting and the revolting and yet she drank as deeply as any one of her warriors who screamed and roared out their emotions into the dark of the night.</p><p>Her tent was dark, the light from the fire pits burning outside barely infiltrated her tent, even the noise of revelry and festival was nothing more than a dull thumping that existed somewhere in the corners of her mind.</p><p>There existed a subtle ache in her shoulder, the discomfort born from atoo violent swing of her arm as she had brought her sword down on a reaper. A slight stinging could be felt across her chin, the blow of a Mountain Man’s weapon having struck a glancing blow against her face as she had ducked under the attack.</p><p>But all small pains were barely registered for she felt an immeasurable sense of loss within the very fibres of her body. She didn’t know how long she stared into the dancing of the candle light, she didn’t know how long she tried to imagine it a strand of golden hair that breathed with the wind. She didn’t know how long she tried to create and banish memories from her mind.</p><p>Some part of her longed to chase away her actions, some part longed to embrace them, if only because it could help her to understand, help her accept the betrayal she had so heartlessly wrought upon someone who had trusted her.</p><p>She couldn’t find it in herself to say <em>her </em>name. She couldn’t bare to speak it. Not yet, not when she hadn’t made amends. Amends she didn’t think she deserved to make.</p><p>Disgust began to bubble, began to boil and seethe and Lexa’s teeth bared, her anger roared in her chest and without thinking, without looking she flung the bottle of drink away from her lips and she slumped back in her throne.</p><p>The bottle shattering somewhere to her left was the only thing to break the quiet she had forged in her tent, the noise of the breaking bottle barely heard outside over the festivities that echoed out into the night.</p><p>For the first time in a long time Lexa didn’t know what her next actions were going to be. Not fully at least. Of course she’d let her warriors celebrate the Mountain’s fall, of course she would set a cordon around Arkadia and not let them expand. Of course she would return to Polis, to the ambassadors and their constant complaints. But she didn’t know what <em>she </em>would do. How could she know? Lexa laughed bitterly when she found herself thinking that she didn’t even really know who she meant. Did she mean herself? Did she mean Cla—</p><p>Lexa’s attention was pulled from her thoughts and to her tent’s entrance. Muffled voices and dimmed shadows could be seen standing outside. It didn’t take long for her to realise who must have been present, nor did it surprise her when the tent’s flap was pulled open as a shadowy figure slipped inside.</p><p>She watched for a breath or two as the newcomers eyes adjusted to the light before they settled on where she sat reclined in her throne.</p><p>A woman stood across from her, a scar ran down the right side of her face, the mark a long since healed wound that ended at the angle of her sharp jawline. The sides of her head were shaved smooth leaving only the mightiest strip of hair to cascade down her back in a wild mess of dark brown braids tangled together. Her clothing was much the same as all of Lexa’s warriors, leathers and furs and metal plates interwove and linked together to provide the wearer with protection as much as they provided the wearer with the ability to run through the forests.</p><p>Lexa’s gaze took barely a second to register the woman only carried a knife strapped to her side before her gaze flicked up to look into green eyes that met her gaze with something between worry, something between concern and an odd sense of caution.</p><p>“Heda,” the woman’s voice was gentle, firm, it held a timbre that Lexa knew well. “You are not outside enjoying the festivities,” it came out as much question as it did statement of worry.</p><p>Lexa looked away in an attempt to guard whatever secrets she knew would be seen in her eyes.</p><p>“It is prudent that my warriors celebrate without worry of my presence,” she said, her fingers having unconsciously come to close around her knife that remained sheathed against her thigh.</p><p>The woman sighed and shook her head as she approached, head cocked to the side, chin lifted just enough that Lexa knew the woman challenged her — or perhaps as much as she dared to challenge.</p><p>“They would celebrate more fiercely if you were there to remind them of the victory,” she said, and Lexa noticed the woman’s gaze drift to the corner of her tent where the remnants of the smashed bottle of drink lay.</p><p>“They do not need me to know they are victorious,” she didn’t mean to snap so sharply but her voice came out blunt and just a little too sharp for her to feel no remorse.</p><p>It wasn’t until the woman stood directly opposite Lexa that she looked her in the eyes completely lest she cede any power that had fluctuated since the woman’s entrance.</p><p>“What is it that you want, Atraea?” This time Lexa meant it when she snapped, she let a sneer just barely lift at the corner of her lips and she found herself leaning forward in her throne as she pinned Atraea with an iron stare.</p><p>“What I want, Lexa,” Atraea’s words were measured, careful. “Is for my Commander to enjoy in the victory for which she has fought to achieve her entire life.”</p><p>Lexa’s anger fizzled out as quickly as it had reared its ugly head. Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised though, Atraea always had a way of tempering her angers, she had always been a steady presence in her darkest of times, even after she had been taken to Polis to train for the conclave.</p><p>“I—” Lexa paused as if to give herself time to think of what she needed to say. And yet she felt she already knew the words that would be said.</p><p>In the silence Lexa felt Atraea’s hand reach out and grasp hers with calloused fingers and skin warm in the night.</p><p>“You are too hard on yourself, Lexa,” Atraea whispered as she knelt down in front of her.</p><p>That time Lexa looked away, she turned her gaze to one of the candles that flickered in the slightest of breezes and she bit her lip lest emotion run too freely.</p><p>“I have wanted this for as long as I can remember,” she said eventually. “The Mountain’s death has been my only goal since I took the flame.”</p><p>“I know,” Atraea answered, her voice just as quiet.</p><p>“But it does not feel like a victory,” Lexa hated the words she found herself speaking, if only because they were a truth and a reminder of something she wished to never feel again.</p><p>“Why?” Atraea asked.</p><p>Lexa’s gaze snapped back to Atraea’s face and she couldn’t help but to see the worry in the other woman’s eyes.</p><p>“You know,” and Lexa turned her grasp in Atraea’s so that their fingers were intertwined. Perhaps it made her feel grounded, perhaps it made her feel safer, connected to a past she didn’t often let herself think back on.</p><p>“Tell me what you need, Lexa,” Atraea whispered, and Lexa could see adoration and love in her eyes.</p><p>Lexa found a sad smile beginning to form across her lips. She didn’t really know what drove the expression, it could have been any number of different emotions or memories or regrets and wants. But she didn’t fight it, she didn’t think she even knew how.</p><p>And so she let her thoughts settle before speaking. If only because she needed to be sure she could live with the consequences of her actions.</p><p>“Will you do something for me, Atraea?”</p><p>“Yes,” Atraea answered with her own sad smile.</p>
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